The Stalker


Tantra was out with Roy after she was forced to accompany him to a nightclub. She didn’t consume alcohol. Roy did.

She ordered juice and Roy asked for beer. Roy was just about to take out his card until Tantra knocked his hand, heading towards his wallet in the back pocket.

She took off her card and got it swiped.

Tantra reached for the receipt to sign it.

“450 bucks for a Minute Maid, that’s what I think this citrus thing is, and your stupid beer,” she yelled at Roy.

“Hey, hey that’s not Minute Maid, it’s a mocktail and the beer is imported, I’m a regular here, don’t humiliate me,” Roy yelled back.

“I’m sorry to have invited you here, Roy,” Tantra replied in a sarcastic tone and continued saying, “I guess I’m being stalked by someone here.”

“Oh yes! You’re high,” Roy laughed off the last line.

Tantra wasn’t high. She really felt someone was stalking her. She felt the same whenever she went grocery shopping, online shopping and even at some book stores where she swiped her card and purchased a dozen books.

She left the nightclub with Roy at around 1 am. She went in her flat and crashed on her bed expecting text messages from her stalker the very next day.

She woke up, grabbed her phone and there it was. Two text messages from CITI bank, one informing the Rs. 450 she swiped and the other, her remaining balance. Her stalker was right in her bag, her debit card which followed her wherever she went to shop.

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